Vendetta
by megal0maniac
Summary: AU. I'm called the perfect little shinobi. Namikaze Naruto...the ideal ninja. Not exactly. At school, I'm Uzumaki Naruto - the kid who's distantly related to the Fourth's wife. And the kid who has to deal with being seventeen. Wonderful, don't you think?
1. Chapter 1

_**Vendetta**_

Rating: T for _heavy_ language, most likely M later for language.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Naruto. And this will be the only time I say it too.

**AN** : This is not a variation of the original **Vendetta** but it has some similar ideas. For a more thorough explanation, check the ending notes or my profile. And, before you flame me for it, I _know_ that Naruto is OOC and so are a couple others. This is _my_ idea of what would happen in an _**AU**_ with a ninja high school with his parents alive. That said, enjoy!

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Chapter 1 - Yo

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The name's Naruto. Yeah, I'm named after fishcake; great, huh? Still, it's better than some generic name like Sakura. I've met more girls with that name than any other—and not one had pink hair like the one I know now. And not one hits as hard as her either, come to think of it.

My friends are part of the 'it' crowd in school. I'm not though, not really. I mean, almost all of my friends are pretty much known across campus, but not many other people know about me. I like it that way; a ninja's best friend—next to the dark—is secrecy. It's funny though; you'd think with the Hokage as your old man and an elite jounin as a mom, people would be all over me, right?

Wrong. At school, I'm Uzumaki Naruto, not Namikaze Naruto, the only son of the Yondaime. This way is better. People don't flatter me just to get to my old man. To them, I'm just this distant relative of my mom, Uzumaki Kushina, who lives alone—that part is true though; I moved out about two years ago when I was fifteen, into an apartment a few blocks away. I still come home for dinner every now and then though. My friends don't know about my heritage either, which is a blessing. Their folks, on the other hand, they know since most of them are clan heads and all. I asked them not to tell; it's less troublesome, using Shikamaru's words.

They also don't know about the little furball behind my navel. No one other than my immediate family and a few select others know about Kyuubi. That secret will _never_ get out, unless they want to be at the receiving end of the Yondaime's rage. Not a pretty sight; I was there when dad just about lost it with Kumo (cloud) about twelve years ago.

Actually, today marks the anniversary of the end of that war, which is why everyone in school is wearing black to honor those who lost their lives fighting for their home and family. There a couple people who decide to be funny and wear some outrageous color like orange, yellow, red—one idiot even wore hot pink—to stand out. It was pretty funny watching Kakashi-nii go up to them and have a 'talk' with them about disrespect. Funny. He and Obito-nii do it to dad all the time.

I myself was wearing all black, which wasn't all that different from my usual clothing, except the pants were black instead of dark blue. Thankfully, my mom's fixation with orange didn't rub off on me as I grew (she took to dressing me in orange kimonos for diplomatic meetings when I was younger). At the moment, I was looking around for Sakura to see if she had dyed her hair black for the occasion like I had jokingly suggested to her. 'Course, she _might_ have done it anyway just to impress a certain someone.

You see, I guess you could say some girls that I know come to me for advice, mainly 'cause I don't date much or like anyone. I'm not gay, but I just don't see the point if all you're gonna do is break up with that person after a few months or so. (Then again, people like Kiba do it anyway just for the heck of it.) Well, back to Sakura. She told me that this guy—one that didn't go to our school, that she had seen talking to Sasuke-teme who had transferred a while back—she liked was going to be in the area today and she might meet up with him later, so she wanted to look extra good. Again, I really don't see the point in it, but if I said that I would probably be at the receiving end of a very hard punch, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Hey Kiba," I said, nodding to the brunette heir of the Inuzuka clan. He and Shikamaru (who's just too lazy to stay with a girl) are players in the truest sense of the word, which was why a very scantily covered blonde was hanging off his arm.

He grinned in a cheeky way. "Naruto. Seen Sakura yet?"

Odd question. "No, should I?" Somehow, I was getting a bad feeling, and around Kiba, that was never a good thing.

"Good. Don't."

" . . . What?"

Sighing in what was meant to be a long-suffering way, the dog-nin whispered something into the blonde's ear who then giggled—have I mentioned that I absolutely _hate_ it when _those_ girls giggle?—and left. "Now that we're . . . semi-alone, I think you should know that Sasuke and Sakura were in a _compromising_ situation earlier this morning."

Say what? Sasuke-teme wasn't even in town. I voiced my opinions to Kiba, who merely shrugged and left to find his other blonde friend. I scratched my head; didn't Sakura have a crush on one of those guys from out of town? Then why . . . oh. That made sense. She probably did it to make the other dude jealous if he was there. If he wasn't, then I have absolutely no idea why one of my best friends was feeling up another best friend. But why would Kiba tell me to not see Sakura today? Unless she was pissed off of course, which meant that she would seek out the nearest person who could survive her anger.

. . . Crap. Having Kyuubi sealed in me, though no one knew, made me heal much faster than normal. Sakura thought that I was just a fast healer, meaning that she would probably be out looking for me—

"Nautoooo." I sighed and turned around. As expected, Sakura was there—she actually had dyed her hair, but it was more of a strawberry blonde than black—with a falsely sweet smile adorning her face. "You know," by now she was right next to me, "I was wondering if you knew how people figured out about my little _situation _this morning? Because," now she was flipping her hair though the effect was a bit ruined since it was so short, "that wouldn't be very nice."

"No, Sakura, I don't know who started it," I replied dully. "Kiba just told me now, so I suggest beating it out of him."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips thoughtfully before they tugged down in a frown. "Naruto, do you know what _exactly_ happened this morning?"

"No," I said again, but I'm sure you'll tell me.

Right in one.

Sakura chewed on her lip for a second and then dragged me to a janitor's closet. To anyone who might have been watching, it would have been quite strange to see one of the most sought-after girls going into a closet with a relatively unknown boy, but it's not like Sakura cares. She's the one who tells me to hang out with her crowd more, to be 'popular'. Just like dating, I never understood the true point, but back to the matter at hand. "Okay," she said once we were in the dingy looking closet, "this is what happened.

"I saw Sasuke and . . . 'him' on my way to school, so I thought it would be a good idea to say hi to Sasuke-kun. Then Sasuke saw my hair, 'he' left after a while, and things kinda got out of hand. Worst part though, he didn't see us in that situation so I don't know if he's jealous or not," Sakura finished, staring at me for an answer.

"Uh . . . " I scratched my head. Offering dating advice wasn't my strong suit, no matter what girls thought when they confided in me. "You didn't—" I gestured widely with my hands, hoping she caught on. She did and violently shook her head.

"No, we just wound up in a 'position'. We didn't _do_ anything, not even kiss, I swear."

"If you say so," I muttered, moving to open the closet's door. "Coming, Sakura?"

She stared at me oddly, as if thinking of something to say. Weird. Sakura pretty much says what's on her mind without a second thought. My parents said I was like that once upon a time too. "Naruto . . . I know what I'm about to say is a bit personal and completely off topic, but are you really an orphan?"

I rolled the idea around in my head. People automatically assumed I was an orphan because I lived alone at my age. I never bothered to correct them since if I did they would ask where my parents were and that would lead to more complications. Besides, I already get enough questions about how much I look like the Fourth and if I'm his distant relation instead of his wife's. "Not really," I said at last. "I moved out of my parent's place a while ago. They're still alive; I just don't get along with them that well." Not a complete lie; I get along fine with my mom. My dad, on the other hand, he's a different story.

The look she gave me told me flat out that she didn't really believe me, but thankfully Sakura let the matter drop as we went to our classes. At the door, we sorta parted ways. See, I typically don't hang out with them during class; instead, I either go off by myself or talk to Shino—Aburame Shino, a pretty cool guy once you get past the bug thing—who's part of the 'it' crowd as well, but he's more quiet. Now, why don't I hang out with them when they're clearly my friends? I don't want popularity. In fact, it's the last thing I want. Believe me; I had it back in grade school, when I lived in Uzu (whirlpool) with my grandfather. When I came back here, I asked my parents to change my last name to Uzumaki; I wanted a normal school life for once. Popularity would only make it more hectic than needed.

When I took my seat near the window at the very back of the class, I saw a couple people give me and Sakura odd looks. They probably just saw me and her go into the closet and were surprised when Sakura didn't come out with disheveled clothing and hair. Sheesh. I swear, all the guys _and_ girls in this school think about is sex. Idiots. They should be thinking about their ninja career after school ends, but _noo_, think about how babies are made. I bet they'll die after their first mission, that is if they even become ninja. Not many are allowed to pass even if they did the required curriculum.

"Naruto," a boy with shades stated, sliding into the seat next to me. Aburame Shino, the dude with bugs. It's actually pretty cool, though watching Ino scream when she first figured it out was so freaking hilarious. 'Course, Shino didn't find it so funny, but he forgot about it after a while (about a year later).

"Shino," I replied. He, even though he's a clan heir, doesn't sit a lot with the others. I don't know why. It's not because he pities me, I know that, but it probably has to do with the others who are quite . . . loud. Shika joins us a lot 'cause of that too. They could probably give my dad a run for his money.

We didn't say much after the greeting. That's one of the reasons I get along with Shino; he doesn't feel the need to fill the void with unneeded chatting like some people. 'Course, it does get a bit annoying after a while . . . especially when your teacher won't be here until there are about five minutes of class left. Kakashi-nii's like that. He's so lazy. Hard to believe that once upon a time he was a stickler for the rules. Obito-nii says that it was his influence (and a rather nasty encounter with some Iwa (rock) nins) that changed him. I'm not so sure if that's a good thing, since he's late for everything (that _is_ because of Obito-nii).

After a while though, Shino surprisingly spoke; he almost never does unless it's something important.

"Will you be doing anything about Hinata?" Oh. Figures it would be about her. Shino's like her overprotective older brother—they did kinda grow up with each other, as did Kiba, but I've always thought the feeling went deeper than that.

"Uh." I tugged at my collar. "Tell me, what am I supposed to do?" Like it's _my_ fault the girl decided that the person she would crush on for the past five years would be me.

Shino's eyebrow rose slightly over his sunglasses. "You know how she feels. Do you return those feelings?"

I resisted the urge to glare at him. Just barely though. "Do you even have to ask? Look, Shino, I've known you guys since the beginning of junior high. I don't date. Simple as that."

"Hn." The conversation just about shriveled up and died there. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. The 'Hinata' issue as I had come to call it was something I've been deliberately putting off for the past couple months. I mean, the girl's okay, if a bit shy—well, really shy, but I just don't like her like that, like how I don't like Ino, or Sakura, or Tenten. Well, I _did_ kinda toy around with the idea of having a crush on the last one, but that was shot down early when Neji claimed her.

It's not that I don't like girls; I appreciate the fairer sex a lot—I'm no pervert like many, many people I know—but dating? Marriage? I'll probably just let my mom pick out some girl from another village as a political marriage and live out the rest of my days like that with a couple of blond brats running around. Sure it's not ideal, but it's better than Shika's plan: he wants to be a bachelor for the rest of his life. I don't mind kids, just the 'how' to get them is a bit annoying. I'm not big on the whole 'let's hump like rabbits and make babies!' like a couple—okay a lot of guys I know.

Class passed in that fashion: Shino was staring at his folded hands, I was looking out the window and thinking about exactly how to let Hinata down gently without having either Shino or Kiba murder me in my sleep. About five minutes to the bell, the door swung open and a tall man with white—I swear, no matter how many times he says silver, it's _white—_hair, a mask, headband covering one eye and a little orange book in one hand. Kakashi-nii was getting later by the day, apparently. Huh. You'd think that having a bossy lady as your old genin teammate would help with that.

"Okay . . . open your books to . . . " Kakashi trailed off, looking around the room as if hoping to see a giant neon sign with the answer.

Up in the front row—why they sit there, I don't know—Ino yelled, "Give it up, Kakashi-sensei. There's like five minutes left."

"Mm," he said, propping his feet on his desk. My eye twitched when he started reading that perverted book of his. Sadly, I knew that it was my _godfather_ who wrote those books . . . oh the shame.

As the bell rang, I walked out the door with a thoughtful expression on my face. Next class was history and I sat next to Hinata there (not by choice though). And Kiba and Shino were two rows ahead, so I could probably get that solved without getting killed in the middle of Anko-sensei's lecture. Then again, it wouldn't make a difference since I'll die before I make it back to my apartment, but I'll take what I can get.

"Hey, Hinata," I greeted, watching in amusement as the Hyuuga heiress blushed. We, along with Shino and Shikamaru (he's only here because otherwise he'd find it too lazy to come to class when the bell rings) were the only ones there; everyone else was mingling in the hallway, or in Kiba's case, jumping each other in the hallways.

"H-hi, Naruto-k-kun," she stuttered, blush intensifying. I wonder; if I talked to her more often, would she blush and stutter less? But how often is often, 'cause I don't really talk to her more than I talk to Ino. No, wait. I talk to Ino a lot more than Hinata, since Ino wants to know everything about my life. And I mean _everything_, including every girl I've kissed, how far I've gone and the rest. Nosy nosy nosy.

I waited until the bell rang again, signaling the starting of second period and all the students plus Anko-sensei had entered before tightening my resolve. I took one look at the concentrated look Hinata had though, and squirmed. _Maybe after class. So she isn't distracted._

Knowing me though, I would never get out of this mess even if Kiba and Shino did kill me. And as much as I hated it, I needed a woman's advice. Not a girl, like Ino and Tenten and Sakura (though I _highly_ doubt the first two are still 'girls' sexually). A woman like . . .

My mother.

Why can't someone just kill me now?

"Uzumaki Naruto! Pay attention you little brat before I hang you by your intestines!" one very sadistic teacher yelled, waving a suddenly very large ruler around.

. . . It figures. The one time someone listens to my prayers is the one time I didn't mean it. Giving in, I took out a sheet of paper and methodically copied down the notes on the board. After all, the faster I do this, the faster class ends.

And the glass is half empty. Hey, I'm a pessimistic person half the time, meaning that if I say something optimistically, I need to balance it with a bad thing. It is the natural order of things.

I held back a snigger at my thoughts. Some people had angels and devils on their shoulders. I had a very strange mind. It's like it has a mind of its own sometimes . . . . It's probably from my mom's side of the family; grandpa's like this too.

"Alright maggots," Anko yelled over our mutterings, "next week there's a test—quit your moping!" she added at the sudden groans. "As I was saying, there's a test that you should be well-prepared for. I suggest studying anyway. So far, I can count on one hand the number of people who I think can pass." She grinned in that special way of hers that made us shiver in our nightmares. "Now, for a little review: Uzumaki! Who was the Shodai?"

"Senju Hashirama," I answered automatically. Knowing everything about the Hokages is basically necessary in my family.

"Correct. Let's see . . . oh, here's a good one." Anko smiled at me in a sickly way. "What does anyone know about the Yondaime's son? Sakura?"

My breath hitched. That little . . . she was doing it on purpose. I've been told a thousand times by many different people to tell everyone about my lineage, but for her to do it in _this_ way . . . . At least the younger crowd—my crowd—didn't know much.

"Well," Sakura hesitated. My 'fake' history wasn't a very kind story. "It's been told that Namikaze Arashi" —I held back a snort at the name I was given after leaving for Uzu— "lived in Uzu for almost all of his childhood. Then when he was due to return on his twelfth birthday, something happened and he never came back. I've heard that he was abducted by bandits or missing-nins, but I don't think that's true."

"Oh?" Anko prompted, sneaking a look at me.

"I've always thought that the Yondaime's son would be strong," Sakura admitted. "So bandits couldn't have kidnapped him. Missing-nins, maybe, but who would do that to the Fourth's son? If he ever found out who did it . . . they wouldn't be alive for much longer."

"Very true." Anko glanced at the rest of the class. "Sakura's version of the story is quite possibly the best theory as to what happened to little Arashi-chan—don't look at me like that, I saw the brat when he was born!" she yelled. "Anyway, does anyone else have another theory?"

"I have a question!" Kiba said, putting a hand up. "Why are we talking about a guy who's probably dead?"

Silence filled the room, and I gave Kiba grateful look that he didn't see. Now everyone would be mad at him for almost disrespecting the Fourth's son, so the issue would be partially dropped. Unless Anko did something completely inane . . . like she normally does. I groaned slightly. That woman . . . I feel sorry for Kakashi-nii; he dated her for a while.

"Good question Kiba," Anko finally answered, "and the answer is . . . because this is history class and he is part of history! Now, any questions that _aren't_ stu—" she was cut off by the bell and by Kiba rushing to the door before she could verbally murder him. I followed; Sakura wasn't dumb, not in the slightest, and she might connect the dots about how much me and my old man look alike (though I'm shocked it's lasted this long). And if she found out, then she would tell Ino, who would spread it all over school, and then I'll be in the same situation I was in back in Uzu.

Shaking my head slightly to get rid of the cobwebs, I rushed to third period. It was a normal class, for me at least since only Ino and Kiba have this class with me. Everyone else is either in advanced math or they have a different teacher and today, that is absolutely fine with me. 'Course, Kiba and Ino, though they act like airheads sometimes, aren't that dumb otherwise they wouldn't be their heirs of their clans. Then again, Kiba is only heir in case something happens to his sister, so I probably don't have to worry about him.

"Naruto!" Ino snapped her fingers in my face. I jumped and looked around; I was already in the classroom and in my seat. Huh . . . my feet must've led me here. Cool.

"Yes, Ino-hime?" I asked sardonically. To my left, Kiba, who had just taken his seat, sniggered.

The blonde huffed. "Be grateful that I'm ignoring that tone, Naruto. Anyway, did Sakura talk to you about this morning? Because I have no idea what she was thinking."

Well, I doubt Sakura was thinking . . . she does the stupidest things for a smart person. "I dunno. She said Sasuke looked at her hair—"

"And he was overcome by hormones," Ino said, nodding. "But why couldn't it happen to me?"

"I doubt that too," I said wryly. "The dude's asexual. I'm guessing it was more to annoy S-someone." Good thing I'm not writing this, otherwise that blunder would have been spotted in moments.

"Hmm." Ino didn't look convinced, but she said nothing more as our math teacher, the 'normal' one as Kiba refers to him as, began the lesson. Math is quite possibly my best subject, which is strange to consider since both my parents hated their Academy lessons (back when the graduation age was twelve) and my mom nearly failed four times before becoming a genin. Still, I'm an oddity within my family. Always have been. I look like my old man, yet act nothing like him. I guess it would be alright if I acted like my mom, but I don't do that either. I am, according to my godfather the super pervert, the perfect little shinobi. The way he said it though made me believe that it's not such a good thing.

Like the past two classes, math passed relatively quickly—though Kiba would deny that—and soon enough we were out the door without a scrap of homework. Awesome, huh? Not really. We didn't get homework only because today is Thursday, the day that Iruka-sensei piles science homework on us without any mercy. _None_. The dude is crueler than some missing-nins I've met, and I've met quite a few. Sure enough, right before we left Science, Iruka-sensei loaded us with homework. Slave driver. But, the next class more than made up for it.

"Ah, lunch," I whispered, breathing in the delicious—to me, that is—smells of the school cafeteria.

"I think you're the only person in this school who likes school lunch," Kiba muttered, heading straight to the vending machines. Or it could be the busty redhead over there. Probably the latter.

Our cafeteria was pretty weird: there were roughly a hundred tables each sitting ten, and the entire left side was glass with a couple French doors—yes, _French_ doors in a school—leading to the outdoor picnic benches where people ate when the weather permitted. I asked my old man a couple times why the budget allowed so much for the school, going as far as to add _three_ indoor swimming pools—and that's not counting the two outside—but all he said was to thank the Yamanaka clan, which is Ino's clan. It made sense then; her dad probably donated a lot to make sure his princess had a great school experience. Ino's not complaining for sure.

"Naruto?"

"Hm?" I looked up from the muffin I was eyeing in the lunch line to see Sakura timidly standing there, rubbing her elbow. Strange. Sakura's pulling a Hinata. "Something wrong?" Please don't let it be what I think it is. Pretty please with a cherry and whipped cream on the top even though I hate whipped cream.

"Well," she leaned in and whispered in my ear, "there's something I really need to get off my chest, and I trust you so . . . "

"You can trust me, Sakura-chan." I grinned, adding the suffix I haven't used for years. She instantly relaxed.

"Remember what I said in Anko-sensei's class? Well, I think . . . I think the Yondaime's son is alive. I think I saw him once."

Now _that_ was _completely_ unexpected.

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**AN **: Damn . . . I didn't have to do a scene change once! That's a first for me. Anyway, this is not a variation from the original 'Vendetta' I wrote. It's a different story with the same title, and I deleted the first one because I probably wouldn't have continued it with this on my mind. This is a chapter to see how well you guys like it, so an update might take a while, though if you _review_ it won't take that long. (Yes I'm bribing.) And, don't be surprised if I bump the rating up to 'M'—I think I'm pushing it with this chapter, what with Naruto's thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Vendetta**_

Rating: T for _heavy_ language, most likely M later for language.

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Naruto. And this will be the only time I say it too.

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Chapter 2 – Flowers

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I eyed the muffin sadly. So close yet so far. Heaving out a large sigh, I said to Sakura, "Let me get this straight: you saw Namikaze Arashi?" She nodded. "When?" God, this could turn into a big mess if it goes wrong.

"Um . . . remember the time I went to Kumo as a vacation with my parents?" she asked, waiting for my nod before continuing, "Well, I saw this guy with blond hair and blue eyes that looked _so_ much like the Yondaime. I didn't think much of it since Kumo has plenty of blonds, but later even my dad—my clueless dad—thought that it was a younger Yondaime."

Wow. I never thought I would have a look alike in Kumo of all places. Then again, Sakura was right: they did have a lot of blonds there, but someone who could pass as the old man? Must've been one strange looking guy then. "Is that so? Did he fit the age? 'Cause Yondaime's son would be around our age."

Sakura paused, nose scrunching as she thought back. The vacation had been about three years ago, so her memories were probably foggy—especially since she said that had been her first time with alcohol as well. "I was about fourteen . . . he looked around . . . ten," she said lamely, blushing slightly. "Sorry, I got worked up over nothing."

"S'okay," I said, turning my attention back to the muffin . . . only to have Sakura steal it and place it on her tray. "Sakura! Gimme!"

She laughed and stuck out her tongue before cutting me in line. Grumbling, I grabbed a different muffin—but it wasn't _my_ muffin—and followed her, pausing only to get some soda and to pay. "Ne, Sakura-chan," I whined, "can't I get the muffin back? Please?"

"No."

"Why?"

"'Cause I want this muffin," she said flatly, sitting down at a table. For once, I sat with her, though I seriously considered moving when I realized that I had a perfect view of Kiba and his new 'friend'.

It's not like I haven't kissed girls before—hell, I had my first kiss at fourteen with an eighteen year old blonde that could probably rival Tsunade-baba in chest. Granted she had been inebriated at the time, but it counted since she didn't have a problem with it later. I'm no player like Kiba or Shika, but yeah, when I go on a vacation with my parents, I generally meet a girl, make-out with her during said vacation and come home without a number. On purpose. Relations, unless they're political, rarely ever last. My parents are a rare exception. And so are my friends' parents . . . and some other people . . . okay, so there are a lot of exceptions, but most of the time it doesn't work out that well, and I for one don't plan on living my life in a pointless marriage. At least political ones mean something.

But geez, Kiba and Shika . . . well, both are in it for the sex, I know that, but do they have to do it so openly? Oh wait, Kiba just left with his friend. He'll be back for nin class with messier hair than usual and lipstick on his nether regions, not that we'd be able to see it but it's probably still true. I feel truly sorry for the girl they get saddled with when their clan duties come into play; that girl will be putting up with guys that chase anything with a skirt. Though hopefully, they'll be a bit better behaved by then.

For once, I didn't feel like eating my muffin and only chugged down the soda in record time, leaving after a quick bye to Sakura and before Ino and Shika came to the table. I needed to talk to someone, and the best person to talk to who understood girls without being my mom was—

"Obito-nii," I said, grinning at the goggle-wearing man who was trying to steal Kakashi's books that were locked in the pervert's desk.

"Obito-_sensei_," he corrected while ruffling my hair. I let him; this was one man I saw as more of a father than my own. "What do you need brat?"

"Answers," I replied, poking at the desk drawer. "Do you think it's wrong for a guy to not give a girl a chance even if they've known said girl for five years and know that it won't work out?"

He didn't answer for a while, concentrating on picking the lock on the desk drawer. When it clanged to the floor and he had successfully hidden the books, he said, "You're talking about Hinata, right?" At my annoyed look, he laughed. "Everyone knows Naruto. Anyway . . . I'd have to say if you've known her for years, then you shouldn't _have_ to. But you never know, maybe you missed out on something that was right under your nose the whole time." Obito-nii smiled at me. "My suggestion? Give her a chance, even if it's only to eat ramen or something."

Sighing, I conceded, "Alright, alright. I'll ask her out to ramen, but when I realize I don't want to date her—and I _don't—_she'll be heartbroken and Shino will break _me_."

I watched blankly as Obito-nii laughed as he locked the door to Kakashi's room, just like how it had been before he broke in. After we were about halfway to the cafeteria, he regained himself enough to speak. "Listen kid, it's not your fault you don't like her. I'm hoping you do, or at least consider her or one of your other friends, but in the end it's your choice. They'll just be mad if you upset her."

"And I will when she learns I don't like her," I said darkly. Sighing again, I ran a hair through my blond hair. "Thanks anyway, Obito-nii. I'll see you in nin class."

"Hope it helps," he called after me as I roamed around the halls, sneaking peaks into some classrooms that were still in session. Hinata . . . geez, that girl would be the death of me—literally. I knew for a fact that I didn't like her, or Ino, or Tenten, or Sakura, or any of the girls in this school. None. There is no girl my age that will catch my eye. Ever. Well . . . there was that one girl in Suna (though she's still three years older than me) . . . the one whose brother was nearly as unstable as Sasuke-teme and whose other brother liked playing with dolls and makeup. And she had been the Kazekage's daughter . . . meaning that if my mom ever got word of it, I'd be engaged before I could say, "Huh?" . . . though my dad would probably be against it. He doesn't like the idea of other kage's children marrying their counterparts.

Shaking my head to get rid of all these _stupid _thoughts, I leaned against a white wall and sank my hands into my hair. When I was told that I was leaving Uzu—which will and always will be my first home—I didn't think that a life without people knowing about my dad would be so . . . so _complicated_. The main reason I agreed to it in the first place—not that I had much of a choice—was because I thought that people would quit being nice to me because of what my name was. Then I come here, and it's the same problem though this time it's a girl that's getting under my skin—and she wasn't even _doing_ anything!

I stood like that for a while, moving only towards the gym once the bell had rung and people were either pouring out of the cafeteria or going in. As I walked past a familiar janitor's closet, Kiba came out with messy hair and a grinning redhead. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed him by his collar before he went for another round.

"He'll be back later," I said to the now pouting redhead as I continued to drag Kiba along. Once we were out of earshot, I raised an eyebrow at the brunette. "So . . . what did you do to make her smile like that?"

"Tried something new that Ino told me about. Didn't think it would work that well," Kiba answered while stretching his hands above his head. "She was pretty good; can't believe I didn't notice her before."

"That's because she's a sophomore," I said dryly. "Anyway, I need to talk to you about Hinata." Kiba tensed and eyed me warily. "Look, I _know_ that she likes me; problem is, I don't like her, and if I tell her that, then both you and Shino will murder me, so unless you want me to date her out of pity—"

Kiba snorted, shoving me lightly. "Like you'd do that. And about Hinata . . . she's like our sister, y'know? Me and Shino were just hoping that you'd like her in time, but you haven't, so maybe it'd be best for you to let her down. I can't promise that I won't kill you though, especially if you do something to make her hurt more than necessary."

Now that I could do, and quite easily. Though it's a good thing the only classes I socialize with them is in the first three, or otherwise the tension would have been quite . . . thick. "Deal," I agreed, pressing my back against the gym doors to open them. "Today's ninjutsu right?"

"Yeah. We'll probably pair up—and you're my partner," he threw in quickly before I could get another word it. "I wanna practice my **Tsuuga** (1) against multiple opponents and your clones are perfect for the job."

"So I'm essentially a punching bag," I noted, taking a seat in the far back row of bleachers with Kiba taking the one to my right.

"Basically."

Cruel, oh so cruel Kiba. I rolled my eyes and was about to retort when Obito-nii and Gai-sensei—who was wearing entirely black instead of his customary green—came out of their respective offices. Obito-nii was holding a bullhorn to his mouth and yelled, "Settle down!" It took a few moments for everyone to do as they were told and once they had, Obito-nii continued.

"As you know, today is the anniversary of the Kumo-Konoha war, so today instead of the usual lesson we will be heading to the memorial stone in training ground 7. Come on, everyone up!"

Groaning with veiled gratefulness, the entirety of the afternoon nin class—consisting of the seniors and juniors—got off the bleachers and followed Obito-nii outside where training ground 7 awaited. Kiba and I were among the last to leave as we had been on the top of the bleachers, and I could tell the dog-nin clearly didn't want to be here at all. Honestly, I had been a bit surprised that his mom had allowed him to go to school today; his dad had been one of the casualties in the war after all.

I remembered Kiba's dad, even if I had only seen him once during a trip to Konoha when I was five, just before the final treaty was signed. He was a funny man who lived to make people laugh. The next time I saw him was at his funeral; I met Kiba, his sister and mom for the first time then too. 'Course, Kiba thought that I was Arashi and not Naruto so that's one thing I've kept to myself.

"You alright?" I asked, joining the very long line to see the memorial stone.

"Hn," Kiba grunted, stopping next to me.

Well, this explains why he was so adamant on getting some stuff with that redhead . . . and maybe that blonde. Sex is a pretty good release, and Kiba needs a lot of that today. True, it wasn't the day his dad died exactly, but it was the day everyone in Konoha would mourn. And it's the only day the shinobi are allowed to mourn. Rule number twenty five: shinobi don't show their emotions. Konoha doesn't really abide by that rule—hell, the current Hokage should tell you that—but today, shinobi are allowed to ignore that rule. So for once, I kept my sardonic comments to myself. I sure as hell didn't want to get beat up by some pissed off dude whose friend was killed or something. You never know if that person might be a jounin who could kick your ass from here to Iwa.

One by one, people paid their respects and soon enough—though it was a bit too soon for me—it was my turn at the memorial stone. I stood there awkwardly for a moment and said thank you to all of those that had died before stepping to the side to let Kiba have his time. No one I knew died in the Kumo-Konoha war since I was in Uzu for most of it. The only time I had been here in Konoha was for a treaty-signing meeting; the same that my dad had nearly crashed even though he technically was hosting it.

I shook my head as Kiba finished and began walking back to the school. Huh . . . if today was the anniversary, then would we get out early? I nearly started drooling at the thought. It wasn't that I hated school, but it just annoyed the crap out of me since I know people _my age_ who're already ANBU captains or jounins. The guy Sakura is in infatuated with is like a year older than us and he's a freaking jounin. My old man says it's because Konoha loses a lot of young shinobi. Twelve and eighteen . . . there's not _that_ much of a difference. For example: at twelve, Sasuke was an emotionally challenged boy. At seventeen, he's still an emotionally challenged boy.

"Naruto." I tilted my head to the side where Obito-nii was standing. "Class gets out early today . . . you're the only one still here."

" . . . Ah . . ." I grinned sheepishly though inwardly I was jumping for joy. "Sorry, kinda lost in my thoughts."

Obito-nii didn't say anything about that—I don't really space out that often, so I probably freaked him out a bit—but he did say quietly, "Your mom said that she wanted to see you once school let out. I'd suggest you'd go; you know how your dad gets sometimes . . ." he trailed off awkwardly. Dad was Obito-nii's sensei when was a genin, so talking about him negatively when you had literally worshiped the ground they walked on was pretty . . . strange. Even if they did deserve it.

"Well, I'll be going then," I said with a false grin that Obito-nii saw through within seconds, though he chose not to comment on it. "Later, Obito-_sensei._" The chances of any student eavesdropping was like less than zero, but mom and Kakashi-nii always tell me to be careful in school about which honorifics I use. I mentally shrugged and began the trek back to my parents' place, taking off into the trees of training ground 7. Mom lives in the Hokage's house—more like _palace—_so I have to be pretty careful of who sees me going in. Of course, I could just laugh it off and say I'm visiting one of my relatives, but this way is less . . . agonizing. White lies can quickly transform into very annoying dilemmas. Believe me, I should know.

The one time that happened to me . . . I wound up moving out. Just one little lie to my dad about why I was late for curfew and it turned into this huge mess that ended with one argument that made me pack up and leave. It was also the one time I've ever seen my mom cry, other than the time my Grandpa said she cried when I had to leave for Uzu. Other than that, I don't regret what happened. My dad and me . . . jeez, we argue about anything and everything. He hates Grandpa, I know, because according to my mom, I was like a mini-him when I was two, then I left for Uzu and I just changed. 'Course, only seeing your child once or twice a year for a decade tends to make that child resent you a bit.

I never hated my mom though. Not even now as I walk past the ANBU guards to meet her. She—it was never her fault that I had to leave, or that my dad can't stand me because I'm not a blond airhead with more lungs than brain. For that matter, I don't hate my dad either. I just . . . get tired of him very quickly. Like now, for instance.

" . . . Could you repeat that?" I rubbed the bridge of my nose as I stared at my parents. On my left there's my beautiful redheaded mother, and on my right is my blond father who, I'm sad to say, is who I take after the most in the looks department.

"The council wants you to get married," my father repeated. "Once you're of appropriate age, of course. To continue the Namikaze line."

"So I'm a male baby machine?" I asked dryly.

"No, not like that," mom murmured. I flinched at the bags under her eyes. "We—Naruto, they just need assurance that your father's line will continue and getting you engaged will give them some relief."

At times like these, I just _so_ want to spit out something sarcastic but I kept my tongue in check, not so much for my dad, but my mom. She knew people who died in the war; plus, she hasn't been sleeping well at all. It's been like that ever since I moved out, though it was much worse when I still lived here. "Fine, do what you want. Just don't get me some idiotic girl." I looked pointedly at my father. "Actually, get me a kunoichi. A _strong_ one. Chuunin or higher."

Around then, dad kinda . . . snapped.

"Do you know what you're asking?" he hissed, ignoring mom's attempt to placate everyone. I really don't care anymore. "You'll get engaged to a foreign girl to strengthen relationships—most likely a daimyou's daughter. No kage would let their daughter marry another kage's son!"

"Could I take the daimyou's wife instead?" I questioned, an innocent look crossing my features. "See, a daimyou's daughter would be so _naïve_, y'know? Plus, the wife would have experience."

"_Naruto_!" my mother exclaimed, flushed.

"I'm a guy mom, get used to it," I said flatly. "Look, I won't make a fuss about who you make me marry as long as she's a chuunin or higher," I repeated. "That's all I want. Take it or leave it, because you know as well as I do that I can just get up and leave and make heirs some other place."

There was a pregnant pause, during which I leaned back in the leather chair I was seated in. I would carry out on my threat if they brought back some airhead girl who couldn't count to ten, or some dumb heiress that had never lifted a finger. Kunoichi at least were a) hot because they constantly kept themselves fit, and b) smart, or they wouldn't have become ninja in the first place. At any rate, dad shouldn't be so pissed about it; mom's an elite jounin and was the heir to the Uzumaki clan in Uzu, and she still got married to dad even though he was a Konoha nin. Was my request _that_ horrible? What they did was even worse . . . heh, mom and dad nearly eloped. Actually, they did and then got remarried properly in Konoha. Who knows, I might take a leaf out of their book someday.

While I was off in my thoughts, mom and dad were quietly muttering to each other. Mom was trying to be the peacemaker; she was probably talking about their own past to get dad to calm down. I rolled my eyes. The man's the _Hokage_ for crying out loud; things like these aren't petty matters to him, no, they have to be handled with the utmost delicacy.

"Well, I've said all that I need to say, so I'll be off. Get some sleep mom," I added as I got up and headed to the door. "And please, _hesitate_ to call."

Surprisingly enough, neither man nor woman said anything as I left other than my mom murmuring a goodbye. Well, if being forceful would have gotten dad off my back that easily, I would have done it a long time ago.

Ignoring the guards outside—well, they ignore me too so it doesn't really matter—I wandered to Konoha's market district. It sucked sometimes, to realize that you couldn't talk to your friends about some of your problems because you had a different life than the one they were accustomed to. Sure, there was Obito-nii, but he's almost like an older cousin or uncle that's not that far from your age. If I could, I would talk to Shino or Shikamaru about it, since as the heirs, they need to get married, but neither really . . . care about those things. I guess as teenagers, they don't have to worry.

_And I am **so** envious of them_. I sighed and looked around. Well, I'm in the market district at least . . . though it's more like I'm right in front of the Yamanaka's flower shop.

Ino's shop is a place I don't visit. Why? Because, getting flowers means a girl, and a girl means a date, and a date in my life means that Ino would be all over it. Literally. She'd probably spy on it too. That girl is just too _curious_.

At the very least, I could get mom some flowers to make up for my 'disobedience' and 'outright disrespect', or something like that. Steeling my resolve and preparing my mind for the onslaught I knew would come; I pushed the door open, wincing at the bells that announced my arrival.

"Naruto! Well, well, here's something you don't see everyday!"

Yep, that was Ino behind the counter. If the blonde hair didn't give it away, then the sheer loudness of her voice would have.

"Hi, Ino," I said dully, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to another.

She grinned cheekily. "So . . . are you here to get flowers for a certain someone?"

. . . It wouldn't hurt to mess with her, would it?

"Mm." I walked over to where the carnations where, aware of Ino following my every move with a hawkish gaze. As a little boy, I wanted to play outside and wrestle with the other kids; my grandfather had other ideas. He made me sit through lessons—about _flowers_ of all things; according to him, flowers could be used to pass along messages (I still have doubts about that). I probably have a better understanding of the flora language than other guys, but the Yamanaka's shop is overflowing with flowers . . . best to go with what I know then; I won't ask Ino for help, she'd want to know the whole story.

Exhaling sharply, I reached down and plucked out a single cut purple carnation. Then out came a Coreopsis, followed by a thistle. Sure, it wouldn't be the most . . . comely looking bouquet, but it would get the message across. I shrugged and took the three flowers to Ino.

"Whimsical for the carnation, always cheerful for the Coreopsis, and nobility for the thistle." She raised an eyebrow. "Weird choices, Naruto. Are you describing the girl or what?"

"It's not for a . . . _girl_," I corrected. "And the person will know what I'm talking about." Hopefully.

Strangely, she didn't jump to the conclusion that I was picking out flowers for a guy—I had a baby barf at the thought—but her eyes lit up. "Ah ha! So our Naruto is into older girls!"

Technically, that wasn't so far off from the truth. That Suna chick was three years older than me and that blonde I kissed was four years older, but hey, older girls are generally taller, and I like tall girls. "Kinda . . . but it's for a person I think of as a mom, Ino. So could you ring them up? I need to go somewhere," I prodded.

"I'll get to the bottom of this, Naruto!" she vowed with a serious expression, though that quickly changed when I paid her extra. "Have a nice day! And I _will_ find out, Naruto! Mark my words!"

"Yeah, yeah," I mumbled as I walked out of the store and into the heat outside. Air conditioning was a blessing; if only they could put a couple thousand outside too. "Now . . ." I fumbled about in my back pocket and pulled out a small scroll with the picture of a small toad on it. Once I was safely in the shade of a tree about ten meters away from the flower shop's front doors, I unrolled it and bit my thumb, drawing out a thin stream of blood. "**Kuchiyose no jutsu** (2)!"

With a small poof of white smoke, a tiny orange frog emerged, wildly looking from the left to the right. I smiled. "Yo, 'Kichi." Jiraiya, after much blackmailing and whining on my part, allowed me to sign the toad contract when I was fourteen. So far, the only one I summon on a semi-regular basis is Kichi and sometimes his brother. "Do me a favor?"

"You know the drill, Naruto. Candy!" The little orange frog held out his hand, staring at me resolutely.

"You need to grow out of this stage," I muttered, but nonetheless handed him some sweet thing that had been in my pocket for decades. "Now, take these flowers to mom, would you?"

"I'm not a delivery service," he grumbled around the toffee, but he took the proffered flowers anyway. "Later, Naruto!"

Once he was gone, I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly and looked behind me. "You done hiding yet, Sasuke?"

The Uchiha heir came out from behind a tree, that familiar smirk adorning his features. "Dobe. Nice trick . . . you haven't shown that one before."

First Sakura almost gave me a heart attack by saying she figured out my secret. Now, Sasuke will wonder why the hell I know one of the Yondaime's jutsus. Crappy doodle cakes.

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**1 Tsuuga** –_ Piercing Fang_ – variation of 'Gatsuuga' that does not require Akamaru.

**2 Kuchiyose no jutsu** – _Summoning Jutsu_ – summons either an animal or inanimate object; needs a blood sacrifice.

--

**AN** : So . . . not much to say here, 'cept review, as always. Thanks to that stats page, I've got a pretty good idea of who clicks where and who alerts. One thing though; the flower language I used isn't _ikebana._ It's the language of flowers sometimes called floriography. Oh—to anyone who's up-to-date with the manga . . . Sasuke's_ finally_ getting his ass kicked.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Vendetta**_

Rating: T for _heavy_ language, most likely M later for language.

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Chapter 3 – Smoke

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I first met Uchiha Sasuke on the first day of seventh grade, and my first day of going to school in Konoha. He was the sole survivor of the Uchiha massacre that happened when he had been seven…and I ultimately didn't give a flying cracker about it. All I saw was an egotistical brat who had some talent but was letting it go to waste by seeking revenge—on a person who, at _thirteen_, murdered an entire clan. That kind of stupidity would get you killed, and I said so to him.

Of course, Sasuke challenged me to a fight…that I am very proud to say I won. How? Because my grandfather is more of a slave driver than Iruka-sensei, and because school in Uzu was so much more competitive than here in Konoha. Getting asked to fight twice a day was pretty much the norm back there. Anyway, the thing is, Uchiha Sasuke was a drama queen back when I first met him. Now…now he is the stupidest seventeen year old I have ever met that should already be a chuunin.

Sasuke left Konoha a year ago. How the hell he managed to transfer to a different village without getting labeled as a missing-nin is beyond me, but the chicken-butt did it and now he's living in Oto, this new village that randomly sprung up a couple years ago in Ta no Kuni (rice field country). So, why exactly does he dare to show up in Konoha? Honestly…I have no idea. Even the old man doesn't tell me what's going on with Sasuke-teme. It doesn't make any sense, to suddenly _transfer_. Ninja don't transfer. Ever. Unless they go missing.

And right now, this guy was staring at me and the scroll that was unrolled on the ground with a line of glistening red blood running across the kanji. I grinned innocently.

"Mind explaining why you know the Hokage's summon?"

Just like the guy to get straight to the heart of the matter. Have I mentioned that I utterly dislike Uchiha Sasuke? There are things called 'beating around the bush' you know, to give the person you're questioning time to make up a convincing lie, which is actually much harder than people think. 'Course it might be better this way so I won't have to deal with that 'white lie' dilemma. Only Kami knows who messed up that could get.

"Kushina-san and I are related…so I'm occasionally allowed to use Gamakichi for my own personal gains." Dear Kami-sama, please let this hastily thought up lie work, or else someone may figure out that little Namikaze Arashi is alive…and that his name is actually fishcake.

Unsurprisingly, Sasuke didn't buy it. Or if he did, he was raising his eyebrow for a completely different reason. "…And why, exactly, would she allow you to use her husband's summon?"

"Because I'm her only living relative in Konoha, so she feels a special connection to me," I said. Inwardly, I shivered at what I had just said. My mother was _not_ the type of person to do mushy things like that, even if they were a blood relation. "Anyway—where's that friend of yours that you wanted to annoy by using Sakura?"

He rolled his eyes but didn't object to my changing the subject. "He's probably fooling around," Sasuke said shortly.

"I'm sure," I retorted, rolling the scroll back up and stowing it away in my pouch. "You shouldn't have done that…not when you know how she still feels about you."

"She doesn't seem to have a problem with liking others at the same time." Unless I was mistaken, was there a trace of…bitterness in his voice?

"What do you want from her, Sasuke?" I rubbed my eyes wearily. "You pretty much rejected her and belittled her at every chance, Ino too. Then again, Sakura is at fault too, for allowing herself to fall in love with a teme like you."

"Not with me," Sasuke corrected with a smirk, "she fell in love with an image. I wonder… who will pick up the pieces when she realizes that?" He shot a knowing look in my direction.

Snorting, I began to walk towards my apartment with Sasuke following. "Playing the role of matchmaker, Sasuke?" I asked without any real bite to my words. Me and Sasuke…I've always thought we're more like brothers than anything else. But he's hellbent on revenge, so we never got that close with his tendency to go train every minute of every day. "Besides, me and Sakura?" I locked my hands together behind my head, looking up at the cloudy sky. "Y'know, first Shino asked me if I'll ever fall for Hinata, and now you with Sakura. I don't like the girls here, simple as that."

Though he'd never admit it, Sasuke did care for Sakura, even if it was because she had the potential to become a valuable ally in the near future. He was looking out for her—a depressed kunoichi helps no one, trust me—just like Shino and Kiba for Hinata. Funny how they were trying to keep them safe from _me_, the guy who's shown absolutely no interest in the local girls. It's not that they're ugly or not my type…it just _gets_ ugly if I have a fling with a girl near home.

"I'm starting to wonder if you're the asexual one," Sasuke said dryly. I sniggered; Sasuke's sexual orientation, or lack thereof, had been a greatly discussed topic with many people—hell, there was even a betting pool on it led by Tsunade-baba…though he's probably not gay if her judgment is anything to go by.

We were quiet on the way to my apartment. It was in the upper-scale district of Konoha, meaning that a lot of single merchants or merchants with their families lived either above me or below. The worst part though? The merchants with families owned entire floors…so I had to deal with dozens of baby feet pattering on every square inch of my ceiling. Still, I loved my little apartment; it offered some solace from school, and my dad's former genin team nagging me all the time, though it was mostly Rin-senpai and Obito-nii.

Those two are the most adamant about me telling everyone of my lineage. They're less forceful about it, but Rin-senpai does remind me about it, sometimes so subtly that I don't realize it until I'm lying in bed. It's _annoying_, even worse than what Sasuke felt when Ino and Sakura stalked him.

"Welcome to my humble abode," I muttered sarcastically, entering the apartment complex. My room was on the sixth floor, one away from the top. Sasuke's been here a couple times before he left, so it didn't surprise me much when he pressed '6' on the elevator button panel. So many shiny buttons…my landlord actually threatened to evict me once when I pressed all the buttons in all the elevators. Ah, good times, good times.

I held back a smile and walked out of the elevator doors once they 'dinged', leading the way to my room, number 72. I've always found it amusing that if the two numbers were added together, it would equal 9. Coincidental much?

"So," I began, opening the door and entering my rather messy room, "why exactly did you come today? I'm pretty sure it's not a day off wherever you go now."

Once he had taken a seat on my unimportant tan couch and I had sat in my favorite chair—it _vibrates—_Sasuke spoke slowly, his eyes focusing on a knot in my mahogany table. "I'm not coming back to Konoha after this."

…Honestly, I'm more shocked he actually wasted his time to say the damn thing. "Okay…you're not coming back…why are you telling me this?"

"To tell everyone else," Sasuke answered, apparently unfazed by my blunt disregard of him leaving forever. "I'm to leave Konoha permanently in the hour; you're the first one I found…next to Sakura."

"Did you do that just to make her happy?" I asked with a smirk growing on my face. "Aw Sasuke-chan, you _do_ care!"

He snarled and threw one of the couch's pillows at my head. I ducked, though winced when the sound of something breaking reached my ears. "Idiot," Sasuke hissed, "_that_ was done to annoy my companion, you know that dobe."

"Then why'd you react so harshly?" I muttered, looking over my shoulder to check on the smashed vase. Shrugging, I turned back; it wasn't like I had flowers around anyway.

"It doesn't concern you," he answered swiftly, standing. "I'll get my companion…"

I didn't bother getting up from my chair as Sasuke left, locking the door on his way out. We were guys, it's that simple. Drawn out goodbyes just weren't our thing; there's no need for tears when you'll have plenty of time during the night to sob your heart out. It's like I haven't done it when I was younger, wondering why the hell everyone had parents and all I had was a grandfather.

Sure, Sakura and Ino would be coming to school with puffy red eyes tomorrow, but honestly, this would have happened sooner or later. Sasuke's like my brother, I know that, and I was closer to him than any of his fangirls or anyone in the 'it' crowd, so I knew that eventually, he would throw everything away for revenge, and to tell the truth for once, I didn't have a problem with it. Friends come and go, it's true, so I never let myself grow that close to Sasuke either.

Still, it stung a bit, knowing that one of your closest friends would now be just another foreign ninja. I sighed, a slow bittersweet smile coming across my face. Stupid Sasuke and his ambitions…he wasn't the only one who had been hurt before by his own blood. Brushing my hand against the seal that contained the monstrous fox, I let my head fall back to rest on the dark brown leather chair. Why was being a teenager so fucking hard? It's supposed to be getting drunk every weekend, banging a hot girl _without_ getting her pregnant, skipping class and having a fun time. Not watching your supposed best friend leave indefinitely.

Ah, the life of a seventeen year old ninja-in-training. Such a pain in the ass. I laughed to myself and went to the kitchen to rummage around in the drawers. Kakashi had given them to me on my fourteenth birthday, saying that the fox would keep me from dying slowly like other people. I smirked and held up the rectangular package, along with a lone lighter. With a flick, the box was opened for the third time in my life, and a single white cigarette came out. Another flick and the end was lit. Breathing out heavily, I watched as a large cloud of white smoke appeared from the cigarette butt.

Smoking wasn't a healthy habit. That's why I rarely ever smoke unless it's for a good reason. For example: realizing that your childhood best friend from Uzu was now dead. That's a good reason. Or hearing another close friend say that she had miscarried a child she didn't even know she had—the kid of the other best friend who was now dead. Those are good reasons—to me—to just get some relief. Sasuke leaving? Also a good reason.

Another way to get release? Well, to use Kiba's logic, get laid. That one I don't do that often…sex just because you can? Doesn't sound like a good idea when the girl could get pregnant, but in situations like this, I could relent from my rules. Hell, after Naoya's funeral about two years back, I didn't go back to my grandfather's house for the rest of night or the next morning. Though I'd have to make sure the girl was pretty drunk; like I said, I don't like flings near home.

Let's see…today's Thursday, and as much as I know Kakashi-nii's gonna be late tomorrow morning, there's always a chance he'll be on time just to spite me, so staying out late tonight is a no. Staying at home all day and exhausting my one and only pack of cigarettes, also a no because I really don't want rotten yellow teeth—though Kyuubi will prevent that from happening, but still, I don't want a girl complaining about my bad breath. Maybe I'll just go out for a while, take a long walk through the market, clear my head a bit. I nodded to myself and threw the cigarette away, stowing its pack back in the last drawer—the one that no one ever looks in.

Once I had rinsed out my mouth with tap water from the sink, I quickly changed from the formal black pants to a pair of faded blue jeans and left my room. I bypassed the elevator and ran down the stairs instead, scowling when I saw the lobby was full. Stupid people wanting to get in a high-class complex. Hell, I wouldn't be here myself if my mom hadn't insisted on it when I left.

Now, to walk around aimlessly until ten o'clock rolls by so then I can hopefully sleep dreamlessly and deal with everything tomorrow. Yeah, the chances of that happening are about less than zero on a good day. I rolled my eyes and yawned, bringing up a hand to cover my mouth. What to do, what to do….Things were so boring in Konoha. You'd think after five years here, I'd get used to it, but no, I'm still wailing about Uzu and—

"Sorry, Hinata," I muttered, hauling the dark haired girl to her feet. Expectedly, she was blushing and bringing her two index fingers together as usual. Obito-nii…I don't think I'll ever be able to go on a date with this girl…there would be absolutely no conversation. None. Nada. Zip.

"I-it's alright, Naruto-kun." Wow. Only one stutter and she's talking directly to me. A new record, I think. "I think I should be going now, so excuse me . . ."

My eye twitched and I cursed Obito with every profanity in my vocabulary—which is a lot. _A lot_. "Hinata, are you busy right now?"

She blushed. Heavily. I wondered if she would pass out from all the blood rushing to her head.

"U-uh, no, Naruto-kun, why?"

"I wanted to talk to you, how about over ramen?" I asked, internally wincing when her face turned even redder. Geez, exactly how much blood can go up there?

It took her a few minutes to answer. "I'd like that a lot, Naruto-kun," she said shyly.

"Great." Hopefully she didn't notice the sarcasm literally dripping off the word. "Ichiraku's is just down the street from here." I led the way to the small ramen stand that I had frequented often during my early teens. 'Course, I kinda avoided the place like the black plague once I realized that ramen stunts your growth. It doesn't really matter now though; I'm pretty much done growing, though I did hope that one day I'd be able to match Shino with his 6'3" height. I'm just a measly 5'11". It's not that short, but I'm only an inch away from six feet! Or more like half an inch!

"Naruto, is that you?" Ayame, Teuchi's daughter asked from behind the bar. She smiled easily at me. "It's been a while. Is this your girlfriend?"

…I didn't know that you could _hear_ a person blushing. "No, just a friend, Ayame-chan." I also could hear that blush fade away to be replaced by a frown. "Could I get a miso ramen, and a …" I looked to Hinata for her order.

"Just a small shrimp," she murmured, getting on a stool.

Taking the one next to her, I sighed softly. This wasn't in my plans for the rest of the day, but at least tomorrow will be a bit better if this gets done now. "Listen, Hinata," I started while we waited for our orders, quite aware of Ayame listening in, "I know that you like me. As in _like_." Well, I guess Sasuke has rubbed off on me a bit; I sure as hell didn't beat around the bush with that statement.

"O-oh!" Her face flooded with red, contrasting heavily with her pale eyes. Damn…is her face turning _brown_ with blood?

"Before you pass out, I really need to tell you something, so hang of for a bit, would you?" Waiting until she nodded, I continued while staring blankly at the wall ahead, "I've known about your feelings for a while now, and I'm sorry that I haven't said anything about them; I was afraid of what Kiba and Shino would do to me." I heard her gasp as she started to piece together the clues. "I'm sorry, Hinata, but right now, I'm not looking for a girlfriend, mostly because there aren't a lot of girls that are my type around."

Shockingly, she didn't bolt as I had first thought. Once our ramen had arrived by a glaring Ayame—I had shrugged helplessly at her—Hinata spoke again, her voice just above a whisper. "A-and what is your type, Naruto-kun?"

My type…girls that are killer in bed. But that wouldn't exactly work for Hinata. "I guess…" Well, might as well use some truth…and some lies. "Tall girls, girls who speak their mind, preferably redheads or brunette, though I do take the occasional blonde, and I guess girls that aren't as…conservative." That last one…what, I'm a teenager with teenager hormones, and I like girls that are a bit provocative.

"I see." After that, we ate our ramen in silence. I wasn't surprised; except for the tall comment, I had basically listed the opposite of Hinata, especially with the provocative mention. "Naruto-kun…do you like traditional girls?"

"Maybe." I shrugged, placing the now empty ramen bowl down. "Depends if they're stuck up and arrogant or not." Sighing, I turned to the Hyuuga heiress. "Hinata, I don't mind you as a person, but there are people that you know you'll never fall in love with, understand? Hell, I don't even know the difference between like love and lust. But let me ask you this," my lips twitched upwards in a smirk, "why do _you_ like _me_?"

She obviously wasn't expecting that question if her reaction was anything to go by—nearly making her elbow slip into her almost empty ramen bowl. However, she did answer, and her reply was pretty much what I had expected.

"I-I think you're smart, and strong, a-and," I had to lean in to catch the next one, "handsome, and you are very nice, Naruto-kun." She finished by blushing again and wringing her hands together.

"Well…if I'm so smart, Hinata, then why am I in regular classes? If I'm strong, why am I still in the academy? I won't deny that I'm handsome," I smirked here, "but I'm not a nice guy. Truth is, you don't know much about me." Placing enough money on the counter to cover both our meals, I left but not before whispering in Hinata's ear, "And one more thing about girls I like: foreign accents win me over pretty quickly. Later Hinata!"

The second I was outside, I laughed softly to myself. It's not that I liked turning Hinata down—she _is_ quite well-endowed after all—but she's too shy for me. Thinking back on it, most of what I said my type is actually true, especially the foreign accents. That Suna chick had me after her first sentence…and it could have done with the fact that she beat my ass into the ground with that huge fan of hers.

Ah, good times, good times.

"…Naruto?"

I started at the voice and took cover in the nearest trees, immediately leaping to the branches and speeding away from any forms of civilization. Easily keeping up with me was the owner of the voice. I made a frantic gesture with my hand and stopped about fifty feet above ground, leaning against the tree trunk in what I hoped was nonchalance.

Across me, the dark figure stopped as well and came into what little light there was. I breathed a sigh of relief when the familiar face popped up.

"I swear to God Haku, you gave me a heart attack. I thought it was the old devil for a second," I muttered, plopping down on my butt. It was _Haku—_the guy I thought as more of a brother than Sasuke—which, admittedly, wasn't that hard if you compared him to Naoya, but still.

Haku nodded, his long hair falling into his feminine face. The first time I met Haku—and I can remember _every_ _**single**_ detail—I am sorry to say that I mistook him for a girl. A lot of people do that, but the guy hardly makes it easy for anyone by wearing a kimono and having his hair that long!

"What brings you this far west?" I asked, holding back a yawn.

"I have news for you," he answered in that demure way of his. Reaching into one of his many pouches—being a Kiri hunter does have its advantages, I suppose—he pulled out a scroll with a dark blue lining. I stared at it. …Now why was that so familiar?

"It's Hitan," Haku said in response to my unasked question and tossed my the scroll.

I caught in awkwardly—it was much lighter than I'd thought—and stared at it curiously. Hitan was the dude informed on everything—BINGO book updates, the latest decapitations, new cults being formed, and, most importantly for people like me: the Akatsuki.

"You going now?" I murmured, opening the scroll slowly. My eyes drank up the dark kanji written in such a way that only those who had either signed the blood scroll owned by Hitan or those who had been trained to read it were allowed to do so. My brow furrowed at the words and after a few moments I burned it with a simple Katon jutsu.

"Yes." Haku nodded again. "I was only meant to come to send you that; I'm on mission as well."

Ah. That explained why he was being unusually cold.

"M'k," I said, waving a bit. "I'll see you…?"

"In a few weeks time. Zabuza will be there as well," Haku said with a faint smile appearing on his face.

I rolled my eyes and grumbled, "Go, do your mission, kill the dude and make your googly-eyes at someone else."

Haku only smiled serenely and vanished a moment later.

Now then… Glancing at the remains of the scroll, I got up and stretched, yawning loudly as I craned my neck up to see the now moon-filled sky. I guessed it was probably a little past ten, if that.

"Apparently I'm not going to school tomorrow," I said, grinning. "Good thing too; I didn't do my homework."

* * *

**AN** : Sorry—super, super sorry! My little sister has my account password since my folks won't let her get her own and the little brat posted up the third chapter—a _draft_ of it. I had been planning on posting it, which was why the AN (the very angry AN, sorry about that) was there, but I was held up with some stuff at school. And then, my little devil of a sister decided to be 'nice' and posted it for me. Before my friend told me that the OC really, _really_ needed to go.

So—anyone who received review replies from me, those were actually from the brat—again, shared account since that is a fanfic-only email. Sorry, andI changed the password so it won't happen again.


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